


Vices: Smoking

by hummingrightalong



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Smoking, on the ranch, vices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingrightalong/pseuds/hummingrightalong
Summary: Nick has one vice left, Troy would like him to stop because he loves him.





	Vices: Smoking

Troy has been right up my ass about my smoking.

Look, it’s the one thing I can have left, ok? I’m not giving in that easy. 

I’ve been smoking as long as I was doing *anything* else, all of which I’ve quit not only out of necessity but because I’m in a better place now. I wanted to leave the junk behind, start this new life. With Troy. Yep, Troy. I know, I coulda had Luci...but this feels right. His fucked up and my fucked up just seem to like each other. A lot. Then they decided to get clean/slightly more normal/healthy together. You know what they say, two negatives make a positive. couldn’t be more true in the case of Troy and I and our little bastard demons.

It’s not easy, working on the ranch, and nothing like I’m used to. The work is hard, physically. Every damn day I’m surprised at the strength I’ve gained from just working with my hands under the hot sun. Every night I’m exhausted, truly exhausted in the best of ways. Not that it stops Troy and I from squeezing in a little one on one time for ourselves. 

The last job I had was at a chain fast food place. I made it less than a day. Ok, I didn’t even make it long enough to get paid for the 59 minutes I served (hey! it seemed enough like a mandatory sentence!). Madison went in raging when I came home early and declared I was over that shit. Not raging at me, mind you, in spite of the fact that it was probably 49% my fault for the firing. 

Hey, I’m doing the math and that asshole is probably dead.

No surprise she won that round. I can’t take any credit and thinking back now, clear headed for the most part, I don’t feel good about it. 

What I’m doing here, though, I feel good about. The only problem, at the moment is Troy’s endless nagging about my smoking...Ok there’s other problems. But those underlying issues I don’t dwell on if I don’t have to- the monsters are at bay for the moment and that’s the way I like it. 

I know my boyfriend only bugs me because he loves me (intensely, almost obsessively...it can get a little overwhelming at times), but I’ll stubbornly hold onto my last vice as long as I can. The problem is the supply. Something I know could be solved by the one person who isn’t going to grant me the favor. My baby has the resources and the amazing ability to always find what we *need* when we need it. My cigarettes are anything but a need.

So I have been *cutting back* a little, begrudgingly, and only out of absolute necessity. If I only have to admit this to myself I’ll say that eventually I’ll have to either learn to grow, dry, and roll my own smokes at the rate I need them if I want to keep the habit up. That seems like too much of a pain in the ass but we’ll see what desperation does when I run out, and run out of people to con out of their supply. I’m too busy as it it though.

Not nearly as busy as Troy, who pretty much takes it upon himself to make sure this place is running at peak efficiency, that we’re safe with regular maintenance of the outside perimeter, that the militia is trained and ready to fight any threat- human or otherwise. Basically he’s a machine. A well oiled machine that doesn’t poison his system. Not ever. Not even with aspirin.

Which is why I’m sitting here with a page of my own journal, something he suggested would help the *cravings* and the feelings that brought me to the point of addiction to begin with. Journaling. I laugh, wondering if his version of the story is in the pages of his own leather bound book. Because when I had to a moment to stop, jog over to the project he was working on at the far side of the property, he’d stared stupidly at me while I talked for several moments before coughing up a plume of smoke. 

Long story short, he’d stolen a cigarette from me at some point- don’t know how he did it but apparently it had to be *one of mine* because the adorably simple reason was he missed the way I tasted. I can’t even be mad. I pretended to be for a moment, shamed him a little, and gave him a big kiss before losing the struggle to snatch the burning cigarette hidden behind his back. 

I guess I still have a lot of work to do, before I’m strong enough to win a round like that. Helps that he has several inches on me in height and no problem using it to cheat.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a planned series, let me know what you think!


End file.
